Provocation
by Jenny70529
Summary: A dangerous altercation at a crime scene leave Greg and Sara's lives in the balance.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Still don't own them, wish I did. I'd chain Eric S. to my bed and...well...I'd have to up the rating to finish that comment. Lol. _

_Another new story! What am I thinking! I couldn't write anything else until this idea came out, so here you go. Next week proves to be busy, but it also proves to allow ample writing time. The following two weeks are Spring Break, so expect a lot of updates coming up this month! _

_If I'm urged to continue (wink, wink) I should have something out within a few days, probably Tuesday. _

_Let me know if you're reading and if you like/dislike! Any errors you find are definitely mine--my right hand girl is out of town at the moment. This was done while multitasking an online music lesson, a msn conversation, and writing a play for my creative writing class, so if it seems choppy, let me know and I'll revise as best as possible. _

_Jenny_

**Provocation:**

Sara raised her head from the break room table as the door opened and Greg walked in, a file in his hand, "Got a lead on the Michelli case."

"Great." Sara replied, coughing slightly as she covered her mouth with her hand. "What did you find?"

"You okay?" Greg asked, sitting down next to Sara, placing a hand on her forehead, "You're burning up."

Sara shrugged, stifling a yawn, "I'm okay, just a cold. The case?"

Greg rubbed her arm gently as she shivered, "Come on, let's take a break."

Sighing impatiently, Sara shook her head. They had way too much to do, they shouldn't even be talking, much less talking about abandoning their work. "Greg, drop it, we don't have time. I'll be fine."

"Okay." Greg relented with a frown, "Victor Michelli has a rap sheet longer than most convicts I know. He's wanted in three states under the name Victor Rigatonelle, Victor Greenbaum, and Victor Vitelli. He's got a page of aliases. 4 aggravated rapes and murders are at the top of his list. Arizona is looking for him on two of these counts. He could be our man."

"His previous victims--" Sara began, rubbing her head tiredly, "Any wives, girlfriends, mistresses?"

Greg slid the folder to her, pointing to the middle of the page, "Wives and fiancés in each case." He held up a piece of paper in his other hand, "I've got a warrant."

"Let's go get him."

Sara and Greg both stood, and Greg had to grab Sara to keep her from falling as her knees buckled beneath her. She put a hand to her forehead, lowering herself back into her chair with a groan, "Stood up too fast, I'm okay."

"You don't look so good."

"Thanks."

"Seriously, I can go to Michelli's place alone, you go back to our place and get into bed. I won't be too long." Greg pleaded, taking her hand into his, "I'm worried about you."

Sara smiled up at Greg, squeezing his hand, "I appreciate that you worry, but you don't need to. I'll be fine."

She slowly stood again, relieved when the room didn't start to sway. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the fridge and took out a bottle of water, taking a swig and briefly bringing the bottle to her aching head. The cold bottle was a great relief, but as Greg's gaze narrowed, she hastily lowered it, not wanting to be lectured on her work habits yet again. Plastering on a smile, she turned to Greg and motioned towards the door, "I'm driving."

"Never going to happen." Greg replied, dangling his keys in front of her as he walked into the hallway, "Are you sure you're up to this?"

Sara nodded, stifling another yawn, "I'm sure. We can call Brass for backup once we get in the car."

"Sounds good to me."

--

"It's not like we don't have guns, Greg." Sara protested tiredly, "I just want to go in there, take a look around, and get out of here. It doesn't even look like he's home."

Greg shook his head, "Protocol, Sara, you know as well as I do that we have to follow the rules."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." Sara grumbled, leaning her head back with a sigh, "What's taking him so long?"

Greg glanced at his watch, shaking his head, "Give him a few more minutes, he's a rookie. I told you that you should have just gone home. You look awful."

"I was fine until you drove like a maniac to get here." Sara muttered, lowering her hand to her stomach, "You could be one of those kamikaze cab drivers."

"Couldn't have been that bad, I didn't make you puke." Greg joked, disappointed when she remained silent. Heturned the radio on, gently adding, "Come on Sara, don't be in a bad mood tonight, please."

Sara turned to look at Greg, a frown on her face, "I'm not in a bad mood. I'm sorry...I just...I may be coming down with something."

"No, really?" Greg teased, "After we're done here, we'll both take off...I'll take you home, tuck you into bed, and we'll spend the entire day in bed together."

Sara laughed softly, "When you say that, it sounds so dirty."

"What makes you think I'm not being dirty?" Greg laughed, "Seriously, though...I'll run you a bubble bath and you can just relax. I won't even proposition you for sex."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Sara yawned, "Here comes our backup."

Ten minutes later, they were searching Michelli's house. Sara motioned towards the staircase, "You go upstairs, and I'll work down here."

"Okay, call if you need anything." Greg said, wincing when Sara gave him a harsh look, "Sorry, didn't mean to baby you...how about...Race you?"

"You're on, Sanders."

Sara squatted next to the coffee table, yawning as she dusted for prints, adding what she found to a stack of ones she had already collected. She glanced down at her watch, frowning as she realized that it had stopped. She slid it off of her wrist, dropping it into her kit, wincing at the sound it made when it contacted the metal bottom. She was relieved to know that Victor Michelli was absent from the residence, because the sheer noise of listening to him complain would have driven her head to explode with the headache she had.

She heard a crash upstairs, and she rose to her feet, calling out shakily, "Greg?"

Footsteps came racing down the stairs, and Sara relaxed a bit. The officer had cleared the scene, and it sounded like Greg was in a hurry, so the worst possible scenario was that he dropped or broke something. That wasn't her problem, that was the city's problem at this point.

"What did you do, Greg?" she called out, wincing as her voice echoed in her aching head. She started to turn, but stopped as she felt cold metal contact her neck.

"Make one move, and I'll blow your brains out."

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey all! This is a relatively short chapter, by my standards, but I couldn't resist ending it where I did. Lol. You'll see. I do plan another update sometime this week, providing all of my plans go as they're supposed to. _

_My wonderful beta/awesome fanfic goddess is still not around to proofread, so consider this another opportunity to see how horrible my writing is without any outside suggestions. Lol. _

_Please let me know what you think. I'm a total reply whore. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

"Make one move, and I"ll blow your brains out."

Sara instinctively squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. The cold object dug further into her neck, pointing upward towards her skull and she could distinctly feel the barrel of the gun digging into her skin. A shot from this range would leave only trace amounts of powder on her neck, the bullet hole outlined by bruising of the barrel. Her head, on the other end of the blast, would be a disaster. The force of the shot would push everything up towards the exit point, and more likely than not, half of her skull would be splattered throughout the room.

It would, however, be painless. Her brain stem would be blown to pieces, and without it, she would die instantly. As she shivered with the thought, the gun was pressed harder against her skin.

"I want you to slowly walk with me into the basement. Do you understand? Do not make a sound, or I **will** shoot you."

Sara nodded, her body shaking despite her attempts to appear calm. Taking a steadying breath, she made small steps towards the basement door, gasping as he roughly pushed her down the stairs. She landed on the cold cement floor with a whimper, shakily rising to her feet as the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, the distinct clicking of a lock following it.

Her mind was racing as she tried to come up with some sort of plan. She quickly pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing Grissom's number, but getting no answer. She dialed Brass's next, getting no answer on his as well. She was about to give up and just dial 911 when she heard footsteps approaching the door. Quickly turning the phone to 'silent' she hid it beneath the stairs. She had just sat back down on the cold floor when Victor Michelli entered, dragging Greg behind him.

He tossed a limp Greg to the floor and stood over Sara, anger blazing in his eyes, "You nosy CSIs, always digging around into everything. One wrong move, Sidle, and both you and the kid get it." He said coldly, motioning to Greg.

"If we don't return to the lab, cops will be swarming this place." Sara said defiantly, crossing her arms, "You're taking a huge risk."

"Leave that for me to worry about, sweetheart." Victor said softly, running her hand along her cheek, "And don't you worry, I'll take good care of you."

Before either realized it was happening, Sara took a swing at Victor, sending him to the floor with the first hit. He quickly retaliated, grabbing her legs and sending her toppling to the floor beside him. They both exchanged blows for a few minutes until Sara couldn't go on any further.

She curled into a ball, coughing and crying as he kicked her several times in the ribs. He turned to walk towards the stairs, but stopped when he heard her pull herself into a sitting position. He lunged on top of her once more, releasing his fury on her already frail body, Once she slipped out of consciousness, he stood, wiping her blood onto his shirt as he angrily walked to the door, slamming it shut behind him.

As the lock clicked in place, Greg started to come to. The first thing he saw was blood smeared on the pavement. Almost immediately, he turned to see Sara's beaten body carelessly left on the floor, bruises already starting to form on her pale, bloody skin.

Almost afraid to touch her, Greg bit back his tears, gently caressing her cheek, "Sara, baby?"

She remained still and silent, and with shaking hands, he felt her neck for a pulse, sighing audibly with relief once he found one. He rolled her onto her side, placing a kiss gently on her forehead before digging through his pockets to see what he had available to him. He cursed softly as he realized that Victor must have emptied his pockets. Keeping a close eye on Sara, Greg began to search the room with trembling hands, looking for something that could be used as either a weapon or a tool for escape.

Just as he was about to give up, he heard a slight buzz coming from beneath the staircase. He spotted the cell phone, and flooded with relief, he quickly answered the call, barely looking at the caller id.

"Grissom? It's Greg. Can you hear me? Grissom?" The line was too fuzzy for Greg to understand what Grissom was saying, and before he was able to try to move for better reception, the line went dead. With a quiet curse, Greg clenched his fists, pacing the room nervously.

He heard footsteps overhead just as he got an idea. He quickly typed in a text message to Grissom, 'Help. Suspect on location. Basement. -GS' He pressed send as the lock began to turn, and quickly dove to his prior position on the floor, shutting his eyes as the door opened.

Greg held his breath as footsteps descended the stairs, praying that he hadn't left something out of place that would indicate he had awakened. He let out a relieved breath as the footsteps ascended the stairs once more, the door shutting and locking behind him. A few seconds later, a buzzing sound could be heard from beneath the stairs once more.

Scrambling to the phone, he saw Grissom's response, 'Help on the way. Anyone hurt?'

Suddenly weak and exhausted, Greg wanted to do nothing more than go home, curl up in bed with his girlfriend, and sleep for a week. Forcing himself to remain coherent, he replied, 'Sara. Send medics. -GS'

Sliding the phone into his pocket, Greg moved back to Sara, once again feeling her pulse. Laying closely to her, Greg whispered, "Help is on the way, I won't let him hurt you again."

--

Greg opened his eyes, his head throbbing. He brought a hand to the back of his head, where a definite knot was forming from where Victor had hit him earlier. His stomach turned and he found himself taking deep breaths, hoping to keep his nausea at bay. He glanced down at his watch, seeing that nearly three hours had passed since the last time Victor had come downstairs.

Soon the nausea was too much to handle and he rolled onto his side, weakly bringing up his previous meal, tears filling his eyes. After he was finished, he rolled back onto his back, whimpering softly. He liked to think of himself as strong, but as emotions surged through him, he found himself wishing someone was around to hold his hand and tell him things would be okay.

The throbbing in his head intensified as he slowly sat up, and through waves of pain, he came to the realization that he probably had a concussion. Digging the phone out of his pocket, he looked to see if any new messages had arrived. His eyes widened as he saw he had missed 27.

He checked Sara's pulse again, relieved to find it still stable, and crawled to the wall, sitting against it as he began to read through the messages. All were of concern and support, from all of the team members, reassuring them that they were on their way and they had a plan. What it failed to mention, however, was when that plan would occur.

Woozily typing a message to Grissom reading only 'when?', Greg let his head rest against the wall while he tried to listen for any outside sounds.

The house was silent, except for the hum of the cell phone as a new text message came through. Opening it, he could only groan. 'Soon' came Grissom's response, followed by a message from Nick, which read 'Hang in there'.

As Greg was tiredly making his way back to Sara, the lights flickered. He took her hand into his, squeezing it gently, "Sara, baby, wake up."

Tears filled his eyes as he brought her hand to his face, sobbing, "Sara, please, wake up. You have to be okay. Please, wake up!"

She remained still as the overhead light flickered again, this time sending them both into a still, quiet, darkness. Cradling his girlfriend in his arms, he couldn't help but wonder where the hell everyone was, and when they were going to come to their rescue.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted as a loud blast filled the air around them. The house shook with the force, and in an act of desperation, Greg through his already wounded body on top of Sara's, screaming loudly as debris began to drop around them.

The basement filled with dust and dirt as support beams and flooring from the rest of the house began to collapse. Greg's screams and prayers were the only sound as he tried as best as he could to protect himself and his girlfriend. As the chaos ended, only silence filled the air.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: A short little chapter to get the weekend started. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. gasp Three chapters without the wisdom of my awesome beta-reader. I'm surprised I've made it this far without her guidance! Lol. Happy reading! Have a great weekend!_

_Jenny_

_**Chapter Three:**_

"We need to get someone in there, now!" Grissom demanded, standing on the curb as the house where Greg and Sara were being held collapsed. His once worried expression was now blank as he tried to block the surge of emotion that had flooded through him as the explosion occurred.

Catherine stood next to him, pulling her jacket tightly around her as a chill passed through her body. Tears stung her eyes as she watched yet another beam break in half, crashing down on top of the pile of rubble. "If you would have let us in the house 3 hours ago--"

"Miss Willows, you know that we have to ensure the safety of the building before moving into this type of situation. We're doing everything we can to get to your CSIs."

Catherine shook her head, her face filled with disgust as she glared at the police negotiator who had been trying to make a deal with Victor Michelli. Quietly, she hissed, "If those two CSIs die, it will be your ass."

"Catherine, that's enough." Grissom sighed, "Arguing isn't going to help Greg or Sara."

He turned to the bomb squad coordinator, asking quietly, "Can you clear the house now?"

"We're working on it." The coordinator replied, "Has the excavation crew arrived yet?"

Grissom looked towards, Catherine, who nodded solemnly, "I'm on it."

"Gris!" Nick called out, jumping out of his SUV and rushing to his boss. His face paled as he looked at the destruction in front of them, and he turned to Grissom with wide eyes, "Please tell me they aren't in there."

"They're in the basement." Grissom replied in a hollow voice, staring sadly at the dirt and ash still fell onto the pile of debris, "Michelli set off a bomb before escaping through the back. He was in contact with Stewart, who was treating this as a hostage situation, and informed Stewart of the device. Bomb squad went in to try and disarm it, and before they could locate it, it detonated."

"Any contact from Greg or Sara?" Nick asked worriedly, his eyes haunted by the sight before him. It wasn't too long ago that he was the one on the inside, wondering if he'd be found in time. Shaking his head, he rubbed his forehead and tried to focus on the present. Sara and Greg needed him, and he wasn't going to fall apart. They had worked to save him when he needed the help, and the least he could do was return the favor.

Grissom shook his head, glancing down at his phone, "Not since before the explosion. I wish they could just clear the area for the excavation team..."

"How long will it be?" Nick murmured, cringing as a few more boards collapsed, slamming onto the rubble, causing a cloud of smoke and dust to balloon out. "Oh God."

"No idea."

"Bomb squad guys get out?"

"They're in that mess too." Grissom replied solemnly.

Catherine rushed back over to Grissom and Nick, her sad eyes now containing a bit of hope, "Engineers and excavators have arrived. Bomb squad says they think the bomb originated from the second floor interior, near the north wall. The Engineering team is going to assess the chance of further collapse, and once they give the go ahead, they're going to start search and rescue."

"How long will that be?" Nick groaned, visibly frustrated. He could only imagine how Greg and Sara felt, if they were even alive, being trapped under all of this debris. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his nerves. They were alive, they were going to be okay. They had to be okay. Their team wouldn't be able to survive a loss this tremendous.

--

"Greg?" Sara moaned, struggling to open her eyes. The moment she did, they began to burn with dust that was fluttering down from above her. Her chest ached with nearly unbearable pressure and she struggled to take a deep breath.

She weakly coughed, attempting to lift her head, "Greg?"

"I'm here." Greg replied, his head merely inches from her own. "You okay?"

"Define okay." Sara murmured, realizing that Greg was laying practically on top of her. "Where are we?"

"Victor Michelli's basement. What do you remember?" Greg asked worriedly, trying to see through the thick dust and smoke enough to check her injuries, "Does anything feel broken? Does your head hurt? Do you feel sick? Cold? Is anything poking you?" He paused, bracing himself as the boards above them creaked, "Sara? Answer me!"

Sara moaned weakly, reaching out in the darkness to take Greg's hand, "I think my left arm's broken. Maybe a few ribs. I remember fighting with Michelli, but what happened after that?"

She coughed weakly again, whimpering in pain. "My chest hurts. My whole body hurts."

"Try not to move," Greg replied softly, his mind racing with possibilities of the extent of Sara's injuries. First and foremost, at this point, was a punctured lung from broken ribs. While he knew it was unlikely, he couldn't help but worry about his girlfriend. For Sara to admit that something was wrong...it had to be pretty serious. "Anything else?"

Sara was silent for a moment before whispering, "No, are you okay?"

"I think so." Greg replied, mentally assessing the injuries he had gotten from the blast. Wiggling his toes and fingers, and moving as best as he could, he was sure nothing was broken, although there was a wooden beam trapping his leg. "Am I crushing you?"

"I'll be okay. Don't move, you may jar something loose." Sara said softly, wincing as she tried to turn her head to the side, "Do you think they know where we are?"

Greg tiredly replied, "I contacted Grissom over your cell, good call by the way, and they said they were sending help. I'm sure they'll be here soon."

Sara noticed that he didn't sound as optimistic as he words were, and she frowned worriedly. Greg was one of the most positive people she knew...if he was losing hope, their situation must be worse than he had let on.

He remained silent for a few moments, before muttering softly, "Why is it that we're both present whenever things blow up?"

"Tell me about it." Sara replied weakly, letting her eyes fall closed once again. Both were silent for a few minutes before she said worriedly, "Greg? Don't fall asleep. You could have a concussion."

"I won't. You either." Greg mumbled, his hand finding her hair and stroking it gently, "I love you Sar."

"I love you too, Greg." she replied with a yawn, moaning as the simple action caused her already sore body to ache even more.

Despite promises that they'd remain awake, both drifted back into unconsciousness within a few moments, unaware of the chaos just a few feet above them.

--

"We want to help!" Warrick insisted to the excavation crew, "Isn't there anything you can let us do?"

The coordinator shook his head, "Sorry, man, but it's too dangerous for anyone not trained to get into."

"How long do you think it will take to get my people out?" Grissom asked, the tension evident on his normally emotionless face, "They were already injured before the blast, they need medical attention."

The coordinator shook his head sympathetically, "I know, but we're working as fast as we can. My workers start from the outside and work their way in, and only in stable areas of the structure. It could be hours, it could be tomorrow, there's just no way of knowing."

"Has anyone tried calling Sara's cell phone again?"Nick asked, looking from Grissom to Catherine, "Do we know anything about their current condition?"

Catherine sighed worriedly, "Not a word."

"What do you think the chances of finding them alive are?" Warrick asked to no one in particular, "In the basement of a collapsed two-floor house? Even if they're alive now, will they be by the time anyone can get down there?"

The group remained silent as Grissom and the excavation coordinator stared intently at the remains of the house.

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who replied, you guys are honestly the best readers a writer could hope for. Please let me know you're still reading, I enjoy reading your comments. And for that one superb writer (you know who you are) who taught me the fine art of cliffhangers...this one's for you. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Four:**

"Sara?" Greg murmured, finding the warmth that had surrounded him had significantly decreased, "Sar?"

The world shifted beneath him, and he weakly opened his eyes, shadows visible through his blurry vision. "Sara?"

"Don't worry about your friend, we're taking good care of her." A soothing voice replied, "We're going to get you out of here."

Greg relaxed slightly, not resisting as the nameless voice strapped his arms to the stretcher, slipping an oxygen mask over his face. He tried to turn his head towards the direction Sara had been laying, but the rescue worker stopped him, gently advising him to keep still until they could get his injuries assessed. As he drifted back into unconsciousness, his thoughts were on Sara. The rescue team arriving was surely a relief, but having them there didn't ensure Sara's well-being. With a soft moan, he stopped fighting and let his eyes droop closed once more.

—

"Greg!" Catherine exclaimed as the rescue team appeared through the rubble carrying a stretcher, "Look!"

Catherine's announcement got the attention of Warrick and Nick, who had been talking to the bomb squad. They had unwillingly been assigned to the case by Grissom, who had then disappeared with the Engineering crew. With a quick, "excuse me" to the bomb technician, Nick took a few steps towards the waiting ambulance, knowing that was the location he was most likely to get a good look at the younger CSI.

Following his lead, Catherine and Warrick also moved towards the ambulance. All three gasped when they saw the condition the young CSI was in. The left leg of his jeans were torn off, the remaining fabric bloody and covered in dust and soot. The leg itself was a dark shade of purple and blue, with a deep gash going from his calf to his ankle. The rest of his clothing had been ripped slightly, bruises scattered up and down his pale arms and cheeks. On his face he wore an oxygen mask, his eyes closed and limbs limp.

"Is he--?" Nick asked, taking a step closer to his friend, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

The paramedics took over, loading him into the ambulance while quickly assessing his injuries and vital signs, while the rescue workers headed back to the house.

One worker stopped, turning back to Nick, Warrick, and Catherine, who was staring helplessly as the paramedics worked on their friend. Jogging to them, she held her hand out to Nick, "Jessica Morrow, I was the one who did the initial work-up on your friend."

"Is he--?" Nick began again, unable to finish his thought as his voice clouded with tears.

Jessica shook her head, "No, no. I'm pretty sure he's going to be alright. He's got a definite break of his left leg, and probably a concussion, but I don't see any indication of more serious internal complications. He seemed more worried about his friend than anything else."

"She's his wife." Warrick muttered, receiving shocked looks from both Catherine and Nick. With a shrug, he motioned towards the house, "Sara...the other victim...is she..."

Jessica bit her lip, looking from the wreckage back to Warrick, "She's alive, but she's got a lot of injuries and her vitals aren't very steady. It's taking a bit longer to get her out, because of the position her body was in--we don't want to aggravate any possible back injuries."

"Oh God." Catherine murmured quietly, "This is..."

"I know." Nick replied, nodding towards Jessica as she hurried back towards the ruins of the house, "I can't believe this is happening, haven't we been through enough already?"

"I'm going to ride with Greg." Catherine said quietly, taking one last look at the house before climbing into the ambulance, taking Greg's hand into her own as the sirens began to wail and the vehicle lurched into gear.

Meanwhile, Warrick looked at the house solemnly, hating that he was stuck waiting for news while one of his friends was trapped in the remains of this house.

Nick stood next to Warrick, his arms crossed while he tried to fight feelings of hysteria. Closing his eyes for a moment, he had to remind himself to breathe and remain calm. He wouldn't be helpful to anyone if he started to fall to pieces right now.

"Married?" Nick asked after a few moments of silence, "When did they get married?"

Warrick didn't take his eyes away from the building as he replied, "A few weeks ago they both took the night off--remember? We had a triple and Grissom had a fit because he couldn't reach either of them?"

"Yeah."

"They went to a justice of the peace that night. I tried calling them the next morning, I guess I was worried because no one had talk to them...Greg told me not to tell anyone. I guess they're afraid they'll be sent to different shifts or something." Warrick replied, shaking his head sadly, "She has to be okay. If she's not, Greg's going to be destroyed."

"Tell me about it." Nick replied, his heart heavy. Two of his best friends were married and he had no idea? And now both were faced with the possibility of losing a spouse. Could things possibly get any worse? He glanced over to the bomb squad tech, who was now talking to a detective, "Where's the idiot who secured the scene?"

Warrick motioned towards the group of police cars, "Somewhere with them. From what I've heard, the officer forgot to check the closets. Rookie mistake."

"Mistake that shouldn't have happened." Nick replied darkly, remembering his own run ins with criminals. "They're here to protect us."

Seeing the grim look on Nick's face, Warrick decided it was time for a change of subject, "Greg's going to be pissed that I spilled the beans about him and Sara."

"I didn't even realize they were that serious." Nick replied with a nod, "I knew they were dating, but I thought it was just something casual. I had no idea they were even thinking about marriage."

"They've been together over a year, Nick." Warrick reminded him, "You didn't know that they had moved in together?"

"Didn't she say that her lease was up and she was just staying with him until finding a place of her own?"

"Well, I'm guessing she found a place...Greg's place." Warrick replied, "Do you think she's going too--"

Warrick was cut off by a flurry of activity near the house. He barely noticed as Nick muttered Sara's name, both of them hurrying towards the commotion. By the time they reached the edge of the house, Grissom had shown up as well.

"Everyone back up, give us some room!" One of the rescue workers demanded, "We need a medic down here, now!"

--

Greg opened his eyes, very aware of the pain coursing through every inch of his tired body. Blinking a few times before his blurry vision became clear, he was able to sense a presence in his room.

"Sara?" He whispered, his throat dry and irritated. "Where--"

A cup of water graced his lips, and he greedily took a few long sips before letting his eyes trail to the source of the comfort. He was surprised to see both Catherine and Warrick standing over him. "What--?"

"You're at the hospital, do you remember what happened?" Catherine asked soothingly, gently squeezing his hand. Seeing him wince as he tried to move, she quickly asked, "Are you in pain? Warrick, go get a doctor."

"No, no." Greg replied weakly, "Is Sara okay?"

Catherine stroked his hair gently with one hand, squeezing his hand again with the other, "Don't you worry about Sara right now. Everything's going to be okay. You gave us quite a scare, you've been out since you got here."

"What time is it?" Greg asked curiously, although he had nothing to really compare it to, since he didn't know when he had been taken out of the house. "My leg--"

"It's very, very late." Catherine soothed, "And your leg is broken. They set it when they brought you in, we suggested a hot pink wrap--"

"Don't listen to her--" Warrick interjected with a short pause, "It was lilac."

Seeing Greg's horrified look, Catherine shook her head, "We're just kidding, it's plain white...they also gave you stitches, you had a pretty nasty cut. They're underneath the cast, but they're dissolving ones, so I wouldn't even worry about it."

"Do you need some pain medication?" Warrick asked worried from the foot of the bed, "Something else to drink?"

"My head hurts." Greg admitted, bringing his hand to his head and marveling at how heavy it felt, "Did they get Sara out?"

"I told you, everything's okay. Don't worry about Sara, she's being taken care of." Catherine replied, "And your head hurts because you have a pretty bad concussion. I'll go get something from the nurse for you to take. Do you need anything else?"

"Just Sara." Greg murmured, his eyes growing heavy. The door shut behind her, and Greg fought to keep his eyes open long enough to look at Warrick.

"...'Rick?"

"Yeah, man?" Warrick replied, his voice filled with concern.

Greg let his eyes fall closed as he mumbled, "Cath--she's not answering me. Sara, is she alive?"

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes: Happy Thursday (a day which, I'm convinced, is the best day of the week). It is only 7 hours and 15 minutes until CSI. Yay! _

_Replies make me smile, and I torture Greg and Sara less when I smile. So, reviews would be great. :-) Never above bribery. _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Five:**

"Sara, is she alive?" Greg mumbled, almost to the brink of sleep.

Warrick patted Greg's uninjured leg reassuringly, "She's in good hands."

Greg drifted back into unconsciousness, leaving Warrick to sink into the nearby chair, groaning softly. He hated to see his friend like this, in so much pain, unsure of what was going on. How was he supposed to tell him about the injuries Sara had sustained, the uncertainty that she'd even pull through surgery. When he was coherent enough to realize it, how would he tell his friend that the person who put him in this bed had gotten away?

Catherine opened the door, glancing at Greg, then Warrick, "He's asleep?"

"Yeah, he's pretty wiped out. Found a doctor?"

"They're going to bring some medications for his IV. What did you tell him about Sara?" Catherine asked quietly, "Are we supposed to lie to him? I mean, the doctors told us to keep him calm, and he's going to be anything but--"

"I know." Warrick interrupted, "I guess we just have to sugar-coat the truth if he asks. Have you seen Grissom or Nick?"

Catherine shook her head sadly, "I think they're still in the emergency room waiting area. I'll go check with them, see if they know anything."

"I'm going to call Brass and see if they've caught that bastard yet." Warrick said, standing as Catherine walked to the door, "Want some coffee or anything?"

Catherine shook her head, "I'm good. Be back in a few."

Catherine walked out of Greg's hospital room, shutting the door behind her. With a sad shake of the head, she walked to the elevators, leaning her head against the cool metal panel as she waited for it to reach her floor. Waiting was the worst part. You could try and rush the rescue teams, you can try to rush the doctors, but you can never speed up time. The elevator doors opened, and Catherine looked up, surprised to see Nick and Grissom standing in front of her.

"Sara?"

"She's still in surgery. The doctor agreed to come to Greg's room to give us an update. How's he doing?"

"He woke up for a few minutes, asking about Sara." Catherine replied, leading them towards Greg's room, "He seemed pretty disoriented, and went right back to sleep."

Grissom nodded, "Recovery is a process, it will take him some time to regain his strength."

--

Greg awoke with a start, giving a relieved sigh when he realized that he was still safe in his hospital room, despite the nightmare he had just experienced. He turned his head to the side, surprised to see Grissom and Nick accompanying Catherine and Warrick in his room.

"Sara?"

"She's still in surgery, Greg, but the doctor should be by soon for an update." Grissom replied, his voice calm, "How are you feeling?"

Greg shrugged, looking down at the white blanket covering his bruised body. He traced his finger along the edge, worry settling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but the changes in lighting from the window confirmed his suspicions that it had been awhile. If she was still in surgery...there was no way that could be a good sign.

Sensing his uneasiness, Nick motioned for the others to leave. Pulling a chair next to Greg, he sat down, waiting until the door shut behind his colleagues to speak, "Hey man, I know this is really weird."

"Tell me about it." Greg replied with a sigh, "I...I don't even know what to say."

"We're just worried about you. You and Sara are lucky to be alive. There were two bomb squad guys who were caught in the explosion and didn't make it." He paused, choosing his words carefully, "I've been in your situation. You probably feel like you're being studied by everyone, you probably have thousands of emotions swirling around inside of you and you don't know what you want to think, say, or feel. That's normal, you've been through a traumatic experience."

Greg silently nodded, refusing to meet Nick's eyes. After a few moments, he said softly, "I'll feel a lot better once I know how my--Sara's doing."

"Your wife?" Nick teased, "Warrick told us."

Greg wiped away a tear that had managed to escape onto his cheek, his face pink with embarrassment, "We wanted to tell you, but..."

"I know, it's something that may be frowned upon by upper management. I don't think so, though, it's not like she's your superior. I wouldn't worry about it. Hell, if I was married to Sara, I'd be screaming it from the rooftops. She's hot, man." Nick replied, squeezing Greg's hand, "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"She's going to be fine, you know. She's a fighter." Nick said, answering Greg's unspoken concerns, "She had a few broken ribs, they punctured a lung. The lung partially collapsed, and when they brought her out of the house, she was having a lot of trouble breathing. They're repairing the lung, as well as putting pins in her broken arm. It's taking so long because Grissom had one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the state flown out to do the repairs on her arm."

"Pins? That's serious." Greg replied, his hands trembling as his mind flashed back to the explosion. If he hadn't thrown himself on top of her, maybe her ribs wouldn't have penetrated the lung. If he hadn't fallen asleep, maybe he would have known she was having trouble breathing. Was she awake, alone, scared? With a shiver, he looked back at Nick, a frown on his face, "Do they think they'll be muscle or nerve damage?"

"We won't know until she's out of surgery."

"She's going to hate it if she can't fully function with that arm...they won't let her work." Greg replied, "Company policy says you have to be able to lift at least 50 pounds, without muscle strength, she'll never be able to pull that off."

Nick shook his head, "You can't think like that, Greg. Remain optimistic, you have to, for Sara's sake, for your own sanity."

"I don't really want any visitors." Greg said softly, after a short pause, "I mean, continuous visitors. Talking to you, it's okay...but everyone in here at once? It doesn't feel right."

Nick nodded, "Done deal, I'll take care of it. Get some rest, I'll make sure you know the moment we have news on Sara."

"Thanks." Greg replied tiredly, resting his throbbing head against his pillow. He let his eyes close, but jerked them open again as he heard the door open once more.

"Mr. Sanders? I'm Doctor Kline."

"Nice to meet you." Greg replied politely, stifling a yawn. Fighting his heavy eyelids, he waited for the doctor to continue.

Dr. Kline sat down in the chair Nick had vacated, a chart in his hand, "Well, I see here that you were to be kept for observation. How are you feeling?"

"Like a house fell on top of me." Greg replied flatly, disappointed that this was his own doctor, and not Sara's. "I've got a blinding headache, but that's all. My leg doesn't even hurt that badly."

Glancing down at the cast, the doctor nodded, "We had to give you a local anaesthetic before inserting your stitches. Have you been given any medication for your headache?"

Greg lifted his arm, showing the doctor the IV, "I'm assuming..."

"I'll check with the nurse and see what else we can get for you. You're looking great," Dr. Kline said gently, shining a penlight into Greg's eyes, "Good visual response, your speech is fine...It would be safe to say that if nothing changes, you should be able to go home this evening. I'd recommend that you either stay with someone or have someone stay with you, especially if you regularly climb stairs, just until you get the hang of using the crutches. I'm going to prescribe you some pain medication, as well as a low dosage antibiotic. It's only a precautionary measure, since your cut is underneath your cast, there's a higher chance of bacterial growth."

"Thank you." Greg murmured. He was finding it harder and harder to resist shutting his eyes, and as the doctor stood, he smiled down at the younger man, "Get some rest, it's the best healing method there is."

That was the only incentive Greg needed before drifting back to sleep, hoping that happiness, instead of nightmares, awaited him.

--

"Greg, wake up, Greg!"

Greg moaned, pushing away the hand that was resting on his arm. He was too tired to be bothered, and his dreams were too pleasant to be interrupted by this unwelcome voice.

"Greg, wake up!"

"Go away." Greg mumbled, fighting to remain asleep. "It's not time to get up."

As the voice grew more persistent, he managed to crack open his eyes enough to see Catherine's anxious face above his.

"Hmm?" He moaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he tried to adjust to the light, "Catherine?"

Catherine squeezed his hand gently, "Greg, wake up, the doctor has some news on Sara."

"Sara?" Greg mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he grew more alert, "How is she?"

"Mr. Sanders, I'm Dr. Ramirez, I was the surgeon that oversaw your wife's surgery..."

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes: Well, this is the last chapter. Surprise! Didn't think I'd be done this soon, but it was time to move forward from this story and onto my next WIP that should be debuting within the next few days. Happy reading, I've enjoyed reading everyone's responses! _

_Jenny_

**Chapter Six:**

"Mr. Sanders, I'm Dr. Ramirez, I was the surgeon that oversaw your wife's surgery--"

"Is Sara okay?" Greg asked, becoming increasingly alert, "Can I see her?"

Dr. Ramirez held up her hand, with a smile, "Calm down, Mr. Sanders. Your wife is in recovery, but she will be transported to her room within the next half hour. We had some very serious complications during surgery, but we're pretty sure she's going to be okay. If she makes it through the night, she should be able to make a complete recovery."

Greg struggled to sit, staring at the doctor in shock, "What do you mean _if_ she makes it through the night? Why wouldn't she? What kind of odds are those?"

Ice filled his veins and his stomach seized with worry as he waited for the doctor's response. He and Sara had been through so much already, couldn't they get one small break, or was everything going to be this difficult. With a tired sigh, he sank back onto his pillow as the doctor began to speak.

"I'll be totally up front with you, Mr. Sanders. We nearly lost her in the operating room, not once but three separate times. Respiratory injuries are very problematic, and they have to be handled immediately. We were checking for other obvious internal injuries, but we simply couldn't keep her open any longer once she began coding. While we are fairly certain we caught every injury she sustained, there is still a small chance we overlooked something. The next few hours are imperative."

Greg sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead as he asked, "Her arm? Were you able to fix it?"

"Dr. McManus is the surgeon who repaired your wife's arm, and he is the best orthopedist in the state, probably the country. She will need physical therapy to regain use of her arm, but neither of us were able to see anything that would hinder recovery." She put her hand on Greg's arm, giving him a soft smile, "I'm sure Sara will be fine. I'll have a nurse come by when Sara's allowed visitors, and we'll see if we can get you in there to see her."

"Thank you." Greg murmured, the doctor's ominous warning of 'if she makes it through the night' ringing repeatedly through his ears.

He didn't get a chance to reflect on the news as the door opened and Catherine and Warrick walked in, both wearing apprehensive looks on their faces.

"Up for a few visitors?" Warrick asked, placing his hand on the foot of Greg's bed, "We can always leave--"

"It's fine." Greg replied distractedly, still absorbing the doctor's news. He had been tempted to kick the two CSIs out, but the more he thought about it, the more he was anticipating the distraction from his own problems.

Catherine sat down, taking Greg's hand into her own and giving it a gentle squeeze, "She made it through surgery, she's going to be fine."

"I can't talk about her right now." Greg replied, his voice cracking, "Did you catch Michelli?"

"PD's still trying to track him down." Warrick said, his voice tinged with disappointment, "They're doing all they can, but you know how this guy is."

Greg nodded, looking down at his leg, "I know."

"We spoke to your nurse." Catherine replied in an obviously forced upbeat voice after a few moments of silence, "She says that they can work up your papers to discharge you as soon as Sara's able to have visitors. Since you obviously can't drive, we were thinking you may want to sit with her for a bit, and then one of us can drop you off at your place."

Greg shook his head, "Not necessary, I'm staying with her."

"Greg, you've got a lot of injuries, you're going to need your rest." Catherine protested, but was cut off by Warrick's hand on her arm. Looking towards his shaking head, she sighed, "Well, if you change your mind, we're all only a phone call away."

"Thanks." Greg replied, "Tonight's important...I need to be with her."

"We understand, man." Warrick responded, giving Greg the best smile he could manage in his weary, exhausted state. "Will you be okay if Cath and I head out?"

Greg's response was cut off by his own doctor's voice, "Mr. Sanders, just the man I wanted to see--"

"Are you letting me go?"

"The nurse is drawing up your paperwork right now. I'm happy to hear that your wife is stable--"

"She's not out of the woods yet."

"Remain positive, there are more things that modern medicine can cure, than those it can not." Dr. Kline said with a sympathetic smile, "There are a few things we need to discuss." He glanced down at his chart, then back at Greg, "Your cast will be on for a minimum of six weeks. I've set you up an appointment with a orthopedist two weeks from today, and he should be able to give you a definite time frame. No working until the cast is removed, because of the cut underneath. The last thing you want is for your leg to be contaminated and fall off once the cast it taken off."

"Fall off?" Greg asked, his eyes growing wide.

The doctor chucked slightly, shaking his head, "I'm just giving you a hard time. It is, important, however to keep the area clean to prevent bacteria from entering your wound. You're going to have a headache for a few days from your concussion, but it should go away with time. If you experience any sudden, intense pain, prolonged nausea or vomiting, dizziness or disorientation, or loss of consciousness, I want you to get back to the emergency room as fast as you can. Other than that, you're free to go."

45 minutes later, Greg was weakly hobbling on crutches to his wife's room, dread filling the pit of his stomach as he tried to imagine what she must look like, how much pain she must be in. Pushing open her door, he quietly entered, taking a seat in a chair beside her bed.

Holding her hand in his own, he gently stroked her soft skin, worried tears filling his tired eyes. She looked worse now in the dim lights than she had in the darkness, but that was to be expected.

It took nearly 6 painstakingly long hours before she showed any signs of movement, and when she finally opened her eyes, he was still sitting in the same position. She was silent for a moment, while they just stared into each other's eyes, both grateful to be alive.

"Lay still." Greg whispered as she started to shift in her bed, "I"m just going to let the doctor know you're awake."

Sara held up the nurse call button, "I can do it." She replied, her voice hoarse. "How are you?"

"How am I?" Greg asked, half laughing as his tears spilled onto his cheeks, "You're so amazing."

Leaning over, he rested his head against her soft hand, "Oh God, Sara, I thought we were going to lose you."

"Don't cry, I'm okay." Sara pleaded, worry creeping in through the foggy haze surrounding her mind, "Greg?"

"I love you, Sara."

"I love you too." Sara murmured, "Your leg--"

"Is nothing compared to your injuries. Sara, you're lucky to be alive." Greg cried, hating himself for breaking down but finding himself nearly paralyzed with joy and the same fear that had been smothering him since this ordeal began, "I would die if I lost you."

"I'm right here, I'm okay." she replied quietly, moving her hand to stroke his hair, "Greg, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry." Greg whispered, squeezing her hand, then gently kissing it, "You're so beautiful."

Sara looked down at her pale, bruised skin, then over to Greg with a wry smile, "If I look half as bad as I feel, then your idea of beautiful is very...random..."

"You're always beautiful, Sara." Greg replied, kissing her hand once more, afraid to move closer and risk harming her more than she had already been harmed. "I'm so lucky I have you."

"So am I." Sara replied, her voice growing tired, "Don't ever leave me."

"You won't be able to get rid of me." Greg replied, gently running his hand over her hair to smooth it down, "Get some sleep, sweetie, I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Greg replied, bringing her frail hand to his lips once more, "I love you."

"Love you too." Sara murmured as her heavy eyelids closed and her hand started to slip from Greg's grip. Gently laying her hand down on the bed, Greg laid his head down beside her, confident that even though Michelli hadn't been caught, they'd still be okay.

"We'll put the past behind us." Greg whispered, his own eyes growing heavy, "And we'll work on improving the future."

"Greg, stop talking." Sara mumbled, half asleep.

Greg smiled, bringing his lips to her hand once more. As a team, they could face anything that life threw their way.

_**THE END.**_


End file.
